HERE YOU GO
by leowhy
Summary: YOUR A FUCKING POTATO CHIP AND I HATE YOU RIGHT NOW


**ZELLA'S POV:**  
"I still don't understand the reason we are going Los Angeles." I say pouting, I mean I'll do anything to get out of gym class; but my agenda did not contain a surprise flight to California at 4am. Seeing as winter holiday starts Monday and its Friday, I did get a day away from the peasants, so that was a plus. Don't get me wrong, if I had all of my periods with certain people school would be amazing! Since it isn't, well fuck seventh grade. I do want to go to university someday, I don't have any idea of where though. I am thinking about Michigan State, or Fairmont State. Fairmont is local-ish, but Michigan would be my dream.  
"You will see when we get there." My mother claims with a slight smirk on her face, she's hiding something I can't pinpoint it though.  
"But I have things to do!" I protest.  
"Like what?"  
"Ummm...internet."  
"Look, you have your Mac, and your phone, and you have me."  
"What about school? I'm skipping!"  
"I know for a fact that you have skipped classes with Grant; most likely Porsche. Plus one day won't kill you."  
"But we have an algebra test, that's worth like 75% of our grade!"  
"Zella Marie Collins, you have an A in all of your classes. Get over yourself."  
"What about that F in gym..?"  
"What about it? It's not a core subject, nor will it affect your final grade."  
"But-"I try to argue, however she stops me by placing her palm over my mouth.  
"You are going weather you like it or not, we are already on the plane. And the fact that I'm like seventeen years older than you, so I get to make the rules." She announces, taking her hand off of my face.  
"But, you're the cool mom!" I reply, trying to manipulate her into revealing the secret.  
"Just because I let you express yourself how you wish, doesn't make me crack under pressure." She declares narrowing her eyes at me. "Especially from a thirteen year old." She adds in a stern manner.  
"Bitch." I mutter under my breath.  
"Woof; woof." My mother says dryly.  
I slouch defeated in the uncomfortable seat; at least I have my music to listen to. I turn on my phone and check the time for the millionth time today, it was 4:59am, and we were landing in five hours. Bored I turn on Spotify, going onto my saved songs and pressing play.  
 ** _Well Spotify treat me right._**  
 ** _Not that song you idiot!_**  
 ** _Yay! Don't Wait, aka the Troyler anthem._**  
 ** _Zella your fangirl is showing._**  
 ** _No only my gay is._**  
 ** _One you're Bisexual, two both are._**  
 ** _Fuck you brain._**  
 ** _I can kill you if I wanted too._**  
 ** _Like wise old pal._**  
 ** _Aka fuckbuddies_**  
 ** _Who the literal chinksploonk are you?_**  
 ** _I am you; we are all in this together._**  
 ** _I swear to god if you start singing._**  
 ** _What will you do? Kill me?_**  
 ** _Possibly._**  
 ** _You aren't capable._**  
 ** _Yes I am._**  
 ** _How would you know? You're just a simple cinnamon roll!_**  
 ** _Again fuck you brain!_**  
After my mental war, Troye Sivan decided to bless my ears with his song WILD. Which was probably my favorite song off the whole album; he's pretty decent. Better at videos though.  
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is my mother shaking my shoulder. When I opened my eyes, she said that we were landing in an hour. I gave her a look that practically said 'Why must you wake me up? I was dreaming of Phan fluffiness!" and she replied with an eye roll. That's where I got my sass from; my teachers always ask me that. Getting up from my seat, I clumsily walk to the in plane restroom. Looking in the small mirror I notice that my eyeliner is non salvageable, due to me tossing and turning in my slumber. I attempt to fix my wavy pink and blonde hair; my mother let me dye it for my twelfth birthday, one of the best decisions of my life. I pull down my cropped grey jumper, trying to smooth some wrinkles out of it. Adjusting the waistband of my pants, I take a piece of gum out of my pocket and pop it into my mouth. Sighing I take a piece of toilet roll and wipe off all of my makeup, damn, I'm ugly. Oh well, it's not like I will see anyone I know.

The plane landed without us dying, and we called an Uber, our driver was a nice lady who had a southern accent; she was talking about her pet cat when we arrived at the hotel we were staying at. My mother paid the lady and handed me our room key, I studied the plastic card; our room number was 620 and was on the sixth floor. Upon walking into the hotel, the first thing I saw was the fancy yet modern lobby. There were glass end tables around the space, with white sofas and white chairs, the chairs had grey throws and the sofas had grey pillows. I finally went in the elevator and found our room, as soon as I walked in the scent of cinnamon hit my nostrils. I explored the suite, two bedrooms, a sitting room, kitchen, dining area, balcony, and most importantly a Wi-Fi signal. I chose the room on the left side of the suite, and went inside. The room contained a giant flat screen, dark wooden furnishings, white bedspreads, a balcony, and a connected restroom. I quickly became acquainted with the area and stowed away my belongings, I then got a shower. I may be here against my will but I will look decent in the process.  
Once finished with the shower, I did my makeup, straightened my hair, put in my contacts, and tore through gores of clothing in a frail attempt to find the perfect outfit. I put on my signature outfit that I wore at least once a week, if not more- Black circle earrings, navy blue Converse, Black skinny jeans with ripped kneecaps, and most importantly one of my favorite shirts; a plain white crop top that had the words 'YES HOMO' written on the front in all capitals. I grabbed my phone and put it in my back pocket, after adoring the case which my mother had gotten me as a gift; it was a dark blue in the shape of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. The case had ears and everything, I got complements on it all the time. I closed the door to the bedroom and walked out into the kitchen, my mother was still asleep and I could hear her snoring. I looked around for food, there was none? However, there was some complementary wine, so I had a glass. The wine was okay but slightly too sweet for my liking. I searched on my phone for the nearest Starbucks; it was less than a mile away. I left a note on the counter for my mother and exited the suite, the lobby was crowded, so I looked for a back door. I ended up going through the crowd of people due to a security guard saying that I couldn't be close to the back exit.  
I pushed open the door to hotel and walked out into the mid-day air. I was shocked at the amount of sun out, I mean it was around noon; but still. Following the directions of google maps I arrived at the Starbucks in less than 15 minutes. It was quite busy; there were about eleven people in front of me in line, and four behind me, not even counting the amount of costumers sitting in the tables. After I ordered I looked around debating if I should go outside or stay in the shop, I bit my lip as more people walked into the small building. Just then, I heard my name being called, turning around abruptly; knowing it wasn't the barista. What I saw made me feel relieved and want to crawl under a rock and die; the voice was my ex-boyfriend: Grant Jenkins. Sure, we were still friends, good ones even; but we hadn't talked in a few days. I could already tell that this was going to be very awkward. I mentally cursed myself as he walked up to me, a grin on his face.  
"Hey, what are you doing here?" I questioned looking confused.  
"Well I could ask you the same thing." He said taking his hand to move a portion of his long fawn colored hair behind his left ear.  
"You first." I demanded crossing my arms in a bitchy manner.  
"Visiting my grandma for holiday, you?"  
"I have no clue."  
He looked at me asking for an explanation, and then motioning for me to sit with him at his table. I thanked him and we made our way over to the table he was gesturing to, when I noticed he was sitting with a girl. I looked at her, then at him, raising an eyebrow at Grant suggestively. The girl must have noticed my action because she laughed and stood up walking over to where we were talking.  
"Hi, I'm Layla. Grants cousin." She said in a giggly tone, reaching out to shake my hand.  
"Zella." I responded shaking her hand.  
"Well Grant, it's been nice catching up. See you soon." Layla stated turning on her heel but not before winking at me. Grant flipped her off and pulled out a chair for me at the table.  
"Wow! What a gentleman." I exclaimed in a thankful tone with a hint of sarcasm.  
"Now, why are you here?" He inquired, ignoring my previous comment.  
"My mother picked me up from school Friday, we went out to eat and she said that I should pack my bags. I asked her why and she said that we were going somewhere, however she wouldn't tell me where. I didn't know until we got to the airport, and apparently I'm now in LA staying at a hotel with no clue as to why I'm here!" I quickly explained before doing the jazz hands at the last words.  
"Interesting." Grant says looking into his coffee.  
"How?"  
"What hotel are you staying in?" He asked looking up at me with a puzzled expression  
"Ummm... I'm not sure I can show you, if you'd like."  
"Sure, that would be fantastic!" He half yelled, covering his mouth with his hands soon after.  
"Shit! I mean FRAN-tastic" He said emphasizing the first syllable.  
"Grant, your fanboy is showing."  
"Only because you made me watch him."  
"I didn't make you do anything, Mr. Secretsmutcollection."  
By the end of the argument we were both done with our coffees and headed out of the Starbucks.  
"It's 3:59pm" he stammered; looking at his watch, obviously surprised  
"Shit!" I yelled mentally slapping myself; we were in there for a solid four hours.  
"Wannna get subway?" He questioned pointing across the street from us at the sub shop.  
I nodded just now noticing my hunger, and we ran across the street avoiding the cars, when we entered the restaurant we were greeted by the worker on duty. Grant ordered for us, and I looked at him with mixed emotions.  
"What?" He said staring at me.  
"How do you know my order?"  
"Because Z, I know you." He said calmly turning around.  
We finished our meals and walked to the hotel, meanwhile having pointless conversations about Pokémon and other nonsense including how balloons were invented. When we got to the hotel he stood in disbelief.  
"IM STAYING HERE TOO!" He shrieked.  
"Really?"  
"Yep." He clarified popping the P.  
"Want to come back to my suite?" I inquired nodding towards the building.  
He just ran into the hotel, not answering my question. We went to my suite to see my mother in the kitchen fixing a salad, she glanced at me and grant.  
"Hey kids, what's up?"  
"Nothing much, you?" Grant said shrugging his shoulders.  
"I went grocery shopping, do you two want anything to eat?"  
"No thanks mom, we had Subway."  
"Okay, now run off."  
"Hold up, did you know he was here?" I ask suspiciously.  
"No, you two are just like always around each other. Now go do your thing."  
We did as told and rushed to my room, we laid on the large bed and watched tv, while mindlessly scrolling through tumblr and other social media networks. That's what we usually did when we would hang out, who wouldn't love that?

 ** _AN:_**  
 ** _I have no clue where the idea for this story came from, if you liked it great, if not okay._**  
 ** _Ps. Zella is based off of me in a few ways, and the photo in the beginning of the chapter is an idea of her looks. Also, the underlined portions are Zella talking to her brain. (if that makes any sense... .)_**

* * *

 ** _To Leo: Listen you little cunt, I wrote this like three years ago. I wasn't Zella then, simply a name I used for this fic. Also, I'm semi decent at stories now... So, please shut up about it and send me memes._**


End file.
